


A Supreme Court Carol

by darkrose



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., Supreme Court of the United States
Genre: Fix-it fic, POV Character of Color, Politics, crackfic, i wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:54:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose/pseuds/darkrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moral arc of the universe bends toward justice. Sometimes, justice needs a kick in the pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Supreme Court Carol

**Author's Note:**

> The stuff about Clarence Thomas falling asleep on the bench and [Samuel Alito being an enormous douche](http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/dana-milbank-justice-samuel-alitos-middle-school-antics/2013/06/24/534888f8-dd0d-11e2-9218-bc2ac7cd44e2_story.html) is documented fact. The rest...probably isn't.

Clarence Thomas blinked and shook his head. The Court chambers were dark, the other eight chairs empty. _Must have fallen asleep again--Scalia could have nudged me or something._

The Justice stretched and smiled. It had been a good couple of days. _Fuck all of y'all,_ he thought at all of the kids who'd teased him back in Pin Point, Georgia. _You all are probably on welfare, and look at "America's Blackest Child" now, you motherfuckers. No more affirmative action bullshit preferences for you; you'll have to make it like I did, with no help from anyone. And all y'all whining about voting rights can kiss my ass. That shit is so tired._

Tomorrow was looking good, too. _Fuck 'em all, the fags and the dykes and all the whiny liberal motherfuckers who act like somebody owes them some shit. Jefferson wasn't talking about your sorry asses when he said "All men--that's MEN, not stupid bitches--are created equal."_

Clarence grinned when he looked down at the note Sam had passed him earlier in the day, a doodle of a penis with big glasses and hair in a bun and a speech balloon saying "Blah Blah I'm Old And Ugly." _Fuck that dried-up old harridan--or not._ Clarence shuddered. That wasn't a mental image he needed.

Suddenly a voice came booming down, as if from heaven.

"GET OUT OF MY CHAIR."

"What? Who's that? Where the fuck's the goddamn Secret Service--off chasing tail again?"

"YOU HEARD ME, MOTHERFUCKER."

"Who is this?" Clarence looked around wildly.

"MY NAME IS THURGOOD MARSHALL, YOU DUMB FUCK, AND I'M TELLING YOU TO GET YOUR SORRY BLACK ASS OUT OF MY FUCKING CHAIR. DON'T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE, MOTHERFUCKER."

The next morning, the headlines read, "Supreme Court Justice found dead." The cause was eventually listed as "massive heart attack", which medical officials admitted was puzzling, since the deceased had never been shown to possess such an organ.

Somewhere on an alternate plane of reality, Thurgood sighed and shook his head. "The moral arc of the universe bends toward justice, but sometimes justice needs a kick in the pants."

Martin nodded. "I hear you, man. I hear you."


End file.
